In close relationships, partners often face a delicate situation, finding it difficult to avoid subtle competition or mutual disdain. However, Zhang Ruyi and Liu Ren, both artists, have achieved a rare stability over the years: they have been partners since graduating from the Printmaking Department of the Shanghai University School of Fine Arts in 2007, and their current joint exhibition at the Yuz Museum in Shanghai, "Everything is on time, but time has never belonged to us," reflects this shared journey. This collaborative approach to understanding each other's creative paths may be a renewed dialogue between them through this exhibition.
Upon entering the exhibition hall, you'll first notice a sense of confinement—a grid framework supported by a wooden keel structure runs throughout the entire exhibition space, like the exposed skeleton of a building, or a meticulously planned cubicle, with the audience enveloped within, becoming part of the system. This "grid" is not only a visual representation of urban order, but also seems to metaphorically represent an ideal state of intimate relationship: seamless connection, yet each grid retains its own independent space.
/Scratch the "Companion" lottery ticket/
“I think I’m lucky, really, it’s like winning the lottery.” Liu Ren used this metaphor when talking about how they met and got to know each other. In the first few years of university, he and Zhang Ruyi were just ordinary classmates, maintaining the politeness and sense of boundaries typical of Shanghainese people who “don’t want to cause trouble for others.” “There are many people who do art, but to completely integrate in terms of personality and lifestyle, that really only happens by winning the lottery.” Liu Ren admitted, “Whether genes and personalities are compatible, you will never know unless you live together.”
In an interview, Zhang Ruyi jokingly said that Liu Ren, who loves playing football, calls himself "player number 6"—on the field, he is usually the "defensive barrier" and "ball-playing hub" in front of the midfield and backfield. He needs to have a comprehensive ability including defensive positioning, interception and confrontation, vision and ball distribution, as well as running and coverage; while Zhang Ruyi is "player number 10"—responsible for charging forward in the front field, organizing attacks, and tearing apart the defense with intuition and inspiration.
This division of labor extends to their daily work in the studio. Although they live under the same roof, they never force themselves to be "in sync." Liu Ren says, "Sometimes she goes by herself, and I might not go; sometimes I go, and she's busy with something else. We don't feel that we have to go out together every time." Liu Ren is a quiet person who uses readily available materials such as straw paper, eggshells, and gold leaf to slowly build the intricate structure, order, and sense of time in his works. He considers himself a socially "lazy" person, even with a touch of pessimism; while Zhang Ruyi is more perceptive and intuitive. She maintains an open perception of subtle information in the external environment and daily experience, extracting creative clues from them.
Both of them seemed content with this difference. Liu Ren said, "Ruyi has a very keen judgment of people and things, and I usually trust her choices. The relationships she is willing to get close to and respond to often share some similarities with me in terms of aesthetics and values."
Having been together for nearly 20 years, they don't care about grand ceremonies or heavy societal expectations, which makes their relationship lighter. Liu Ren and Zhang Ruyi don't participate too closely in each other's lives or creative work; they tacitly build a protective net around their relationship, shielding it from external interference and leaving only their pure selves.
/Ruins and Eggshells/
So how do two artists, who have different paths in material selection, physical form, and creative methods, understand each other amidst their differences? And how have they remained among the earliest viewers of each other's work for nearly two decades? When discussing this, both mentioned that this relationship is more like a trust formed over a long period of time: they understand each other's creative judgments and respect each other's way of looking at art.
When Zhang Ruyi was still studying at Shanghai University, she would keep cacti in her rented room. These plants love light, are heat-resistant, and need good ventilation. She would place them on the bay window and then use a grid on calculation paper to trace their forms, capturing their shapes with the help of coordinate points and the grid system. Now, more than a decade later, the cactus in her work has long transcended the realm of personal hobby or self-metaphor, gradually becoming a reference: its tenacious growth in the desert contrasts with the individual's situation, boundaries, and relational experiences in the urban environment.
If Zhang Ruyi extracts sensitive and painful emotions from the cold, hard urban fabric, then Liu Ren gazes at those small, fleeting, and easily overlooked everyday objects in a calmer and slower way, and unfolds a perception of the impermanence of life within them.
He had a particular fondness for a type of coarse-textured toilet paper. During his university years, in preparation for the CET-4 (College English Test Band 4), he repeatedly copied words onto this paper. Its surface had an undulating texture, and when one neatly writes tiny Chinese characters on such texture, the restraint itself creates a relatively extreme visual state, like printed fonts. But when magnified, the relationship between this systematically regulated visual experience and the actual tactile feel fascinated him.
In his hands, the straw paper underwent a layered transformation. He used the mounting techniques of Chinese painting to treat this daily consumable material used to carry the body's metabolism, completely soaking it, layering one sheet over another, pressing it down to form a shape resembling "straw paper bricks," then painting it bright blue, and finally attaching gold leaf, creating books that were only left with covers and no content, books that could not be read. The surface of the gold leaf and the background color of the straw paper are a response to the brilliance of life and the emptiness of the background. As a cover for a painting, it is more of a beautiful memory of books and the era of reading, forming a strong contrast with today's increasingly virtual and efficient flow of information.
Liu Ren would also copy English words onto the inside of eggshells (such as in his early work "Searching for Security") – a time of national celebration and celebration when China won the bid to host the Olympics. However, as a student facing graduation and trying to find his place in the vast social system, Liu Ren chose to write down the English words representing the system's requirements on the inner wall of an extremely fragile container that symbolized the birth and breaking of life, thus presenting "the most authentic vulnerability and powerlessness of the individual under the massive system of the times".
Although they follow different mediums of expression, they all start from extremely micro, everyday slices to respond to the discipline that the vast and pervasive urban system and institutional standardization impose on human perception.
VOGUE: This duo exhibition took two years to prepare. Throughout the process, both of you were extremely meticulous and had a great understanding. Do you usually discuss how to present your "relationship" in exhibitions and media?
Zhang Ruyi: When we were first invited to this exhibition, we didn't start by considering how to present "the relationship between two people." Instead, we went back to the context of our respective works to find the parts that could resonate with each other in terms of concepts, materials, and visual language. We hoped that these works would form a genuine dialogue within the space of the Yuz Museum, rather than relying on additional emotional narratives for explanation. The so-called relationship will naturally be reflected in the connection, distance, and mutual response between the works.
Liu Ren: The starting point for this exhibition was to seek dialogue. At the time, in the sunroom and exhibition hall, we chose Zhang Ruyi's cactus piercing through industrial film, and my eggshell. Because they are all remnants of life, as traces of existence. We used the "grid" that appears repeatedly in Zhang Ruyi's work, which is a kind of standardization. My work is interested in expressing the state of being imprisoned by the system, so we designed the "cage" in the exhibition hall in response to the standardization and predicament of contemporary life.
The dilemma of standardization is a very real and complex problem. If everything in a social system is based on extreme individuality as a reference point, the system will inevitably collapse in the end. Take modern medicine, for example. From registration, consultation, X-rays to medication dispensing, it's a standardized, highly efficient system. It may not be perfect, but it can handle problems to the greatest extent possible. While individuals are protected by this system, they are also cruelly imprisoned by it.
VOGUE: You are life partners and work under the same roof (in the studio) on high-intensity artistic creation. How do you usually distinguish between the identities of "artist" and "family member"?
Zhang Ruyi: Our working styles are actually relatively independent. Although the studio space is large, we are not always in the same working rhythm. Instead, we each maintain our own creative area, working methods, and space for thinking. It is precisely because of this physical separation that our relationship does not excessively interfere with each other's creation. On the contrary, it allows our judgments, intuitions, and critical thinking to remain clearer.
Liu Ren: Yes, artists really need independent energy. A crucial point in our relationship is that there's no competition between us. We don't perceive each other's creations, judgments, or external recognition as pressure. On the contrary, I have complete trust in her aesthetic sense, intuition, and judgment.
Socially, I'm relatively slower and more passive; while she's often more perceptive and natural in her perception of people and relationships. Many times, I feel comfortable entering into the conversations and connections she establishes. Because I know that although we have different personalities and work styles, we share a very deep consensus on values, aesthetic judgments, and underlying principles. But this is completely absent in our relationship. I have absolute trust in her aesthetic sense and intuition. Even in social situations, I'm rather "lazy," while she makes new friends quickly. I can simply "reap the benefits" of her carefully selected social circle because I know our values and underlying principles are exactly the same.
VOGUE: When was there a moment when you suddenly realized that "although we are making different works, our spiritual worlds are completely in the same place"?
Liu Ren: During the time I was staying home, I played Red Dead Redemption 2. Zhang Ruyi initially just watched it as background noise, but when the game depicted the end of the wild era in the American West and the sense of loss as the social system began to replace the wilderness with discipline and the rule of law, our conversation exploded. It was a profound alignment of our values. When the game's music came on at the end, it was incredibly moving, and I called her over to listen. She immediately downloaded the soundtrack. We seem to live in our own respective creative worlds, but when faced with the underlying logic of the era and the system, our perceptions are exactly the same.
Photography: REVEN LEI
Styling: ALVIN YU
Written by: Chen Yuan
Edited by: MAYA MA
Production: Julie Wang
Styling: SIMONE
Makeup: RACHEL WANG
Hairstyle: Ellen Chao
Executive Production: WENDY WANG
Photography Assistant: Guo Yukun
Production Assistant: Quan Haozhi
Equipment: Shanghai Shangde Elephant
Stagehand: KK Stagehand
Design: Xiao Yi
All images in this article are courtesy of the artists.
